


Beaten Dragons

by Happinessisingrown



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Dark Fairy Tale Elements, Dark Fantasy, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Fae & Fairies, M/M, Possessive Behavior
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:47:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24562615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Happinessisingrown/pseuds/Happinessisingrown
Summary: "You used to eat burnt buns.  Surely, this is better." Tanish's eyes glinted as he threw a large apple into the air, smirking as he brandished it to me as if he was presenting a jewel.   The skin of the fruit shone, red hues blending into the light green base.  She could smell the light floral scent and almost taste the juicy flesh that would quench her dry throat.Ashima shook her head.  Her teeth dug into her lips to prevent them from opening on their own will.  She would not let him win again.The twinkle in his eyes darkened and his eyebrows clenched closer together, creating furrows in his flawless brown skin. Reaching out and pinching her chin between tapered fingers, he jerked her head up.  Tracing her lips with the flesh of the apple, he pressed the fruit into her mouth."You can fight all you want, love. But we both know the end of this game. You're going to stay here and I'm going to win.  Why don't you make it easy for yourself? Take a bite," His words dripped with honey as his fingers tightened their hold.Grimacing at his fake concern, Ashima curled her shoulder to break away from his hold.  Shaking her head, she tried to free herself from him, knowing it was pointless.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Female Character, Original Female Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 7
Kudos: 13





	1. Chapter 1

“Let’s play a game. You send me some of yours, and we’ll take them on a journey through the Night Court. Every one of their dreams will come true within the circle. If they can solve the riddle, come celebrate with us over tea.”

The words were beautiful, written in thick purple ink curling over the yellow parchment. Each letter had multiple embellishments and swirls, and the ink sunk through to the other side of the paper. Underneath the text, the seal of the Night court was etched delicately over the violet wax. Large bouquets of snapdragons intertwined with small columbine flowers formed the base of the crest, surrounding one single orchid. 

When the first letter arrived, hundreds of years ago, the region of Eston was thrilled. An isolated mountain principality on the edge of the Shintel Forest, there was rarely any excitement in the territory. It was a five day journey to reach the capital city and the river nymphs, dragons, and merpeople who populated the area around the city. The idea of attending an organized ball by the neighboring fae would allow them to close the distance between their hidden neighbors and the town. 

When the first forty young adults were sent to the forests in their best festivities clothes, every town in the area walked them to the edge of the forests. The speckled sun shone between the thick leaves and lit up the light silver stitching on the girls’ frocks and shined off the bronze buttons of the boy’s coats. Tittering laughter and excited chatter arose and the joy was a tingling feeling surrounding the grove. A trail of light followed them into the forest before the winding trails and foliage covered their path. 

Only twenty of them returned. 

Twenty of the brightest and most beautiful souls in the region were lost; never to be seen again. Search groups scoured for months, and found nothing. They seemed to have vanished into thin air. Each search went further and further into the forest, uncovering various empty faery rings filled with empty bags of shredded paper and wooden instruments. By winter, all of the Estonens had given up hope. 

The survivors could not provide help either. Each of them had seemed to forget their experience in the forest altogether. When questioned, their eyes glazed over and they merely could say, “They could not solve the riddle”. As the shadows in their eyes cleared, they returned to their task at hand as though they had never been interrupted in the first place. Further questions were only met with the same repeated answers. Their personalities hadn’t changed though. All of them still worked and played, five of them married another participant in the game. 

The cycle continued, every fifty years, 40 villagers were sent the same card, “Let’s play a game.” When the region chose to not send participants, they were merely taken from their beds, never to be seen again. There was no rhyme or reason to the selections. The contestants were from all social classes, races, and appearances. After the third occurrence, the king sent one of the court fae to see the Night Court. Instead of stopping the occurrences, the fae court chose only to open their game to the entire empire. No longer were the participants members limited to the surrounding communities (those that were familiar with the mischievous ways of the fae) but rather to the naive population of the capital, and the surrounding deserts. It quickly became a dreaded event. The king made multiple attempts to burn the forest. He asked sorcerers to isolate the fae from their power, destroyed their faery rings, and restricted human movement through the forest. All of these actions were met with amusement from the Fae. For every attempt, one more Ryandian life was added. Soon, the participants were surpassing the populations of Eston. Any compromise to the fae was only met with a mocking response and a grin with too many sharp teeth. 

“It’s just a game. Find the answer, and we won’t have to play again.”

And so it continued, for centuries. Lives were lost, ghosts returned and the only ones who seemed to smile in the kingdom were the fae. And soon, their smiles began fading as well. The tasks became crueler. Instead of just disappearing, the contestants’ bodies returned. 

The first tea party included several former participants. Each of the women wore jewel toned ball gown covered in lace, and all of the participants had small flower crowns of orchids and snapdragons. It would have been a beautiful scene, if it wasn’t for the frozen manic smiles which showed too many teeth. Their eyes darted across the scenes, pleading screaming for help. When they moved, it was stiff and mechanical as if they were marionettes being controlled. When an old lover of one of the girls attempted to free her, the contestants synchronically turned to look at him, before jerkily moving to encircle him. Slowly and slowly, they started to move, legs crossing, arms interlocking in a broken version of a country dance. Their feet quickened their pace until their legs were kicking ,and hair flying. Faster still, as the interloper was pulled from side to side, body flung forwards and backwards, lost in a tangle of limbs and swirling petticoats. The movement became a whirlwind, and soon all you could see was a stray limb flying or a spot of color between the grey whirling masses. Suddenly, the movement ceased, 

The participants returned back to their original spots with their smiles pasted on. Each of their movements regressed back to a mechanical lifting of their arms. In the center of the table, where a previous bouquets of white chrysanthemums laid, sat a teapot, in the shape of the man. His arms were bent and his eyes were vacant, but each time he was tipped over, there was a scream of pain that exited his mouth in a puff of steam. 

No one tried to touch the returned anymore.

As the centuries went on, the displays went from whimsical to macabre. The tea parties faded away, replaced by a footless Cinderella, a lecherous Groom waiting eternally for a bride that never moved closer, and a child slipping from the tallest branch of a tree. Each of the participants in these displays looked more deranged, as their bodies wasted away and their faces stayed locked in smiles that were too large for their faces. And with each new display, the invitations were met with even more bated breath. 

“Let’s play a game”

Eighty invitations were sent out. Eighty young adults were called to Shintel Forest one rainy morning in the Growing Season. And this year, all but one returned.

~~~

For Ashima, a burnt bread bun was drier than the summers in Dydro. Each crumbly bite sucked moisture out of her mouth, until she wished that she could swim in the steam coming off of the ovens. The crackled crust cut her chapped lips. 

“Seven burnt buns, do you know what I could do with seven foundlings right now, Ashima?” A crack came as a bun was tossed from the coals onto Ashima’s feet; the soot from the oven covering her blistering skin. 

“Yes, mistress,” The best way to please Mistress Sunnita was to answer her taunts. Born into a mining family, Mistress learned her mannerisms from her foreman father, barking out orders in a bakery, similar to those in a battlefield. Each word was delivered brusquely; each mistake met with a curse or a cuff around the head. Compliments were seldom, and when they were said, Mistress never added any emotions to her words. Miners couldn’t afford mistakes, and neither could bakers. 

“If you don’t know how to bake buns after your apprenticeship, you need practice,” Mistress’s eyes narrowed, eying the remaining loaves of bread on her shelf, “8 batches by sunrise tomorrow morning. Another mistake, and you can use your grain ration to pay for the wasted supply.”

With her head ducked to the floor, Ashima murmured a small noise of assent. Sunita’s eyes looked her over. She caught the downtrodden eyes, the wringing hands, and believing that Ashima was properly chastised, Mistress snorted and moved out of the kitchen, stormin out of the kitchen with murmured curses. If she had looked closely, she would have seen the quirk of Ashima’s lips and the mischievous sparkle that backlit her eyes. Peeking her eyes up underneath her bandana, she noticed that Mistress had finally left, and she could smile fully. Nights at work were hot, sweaty, and unconducive to sleep; however, there also was food to eat, which was always better than sleep. 

Sprinting in the direction of her home, Ashima skirted her way through the busy streets full of merchants housewives buying groceries. Bartering conversations rang out from every angle. 

“Miss, would you like some jalebi?”

“What about a pretty  _ dupata _ for the all summer’s eve festival?”

“Some fresh figs for your love?”

Skidding past each of them, she finally saw the face she was looking for. Weathered and wrinkled with a stooped back, Nani kept the most organized cart in the market. Her clay pots were arranged from light to dark terracotta, with her painted masterpieces front and center. Long stemmed vases painted to show the Shintel Forests cutting through the heart of the kingdom with the desert outreaches of Dydro curling over the rim of the vase, so thinly painted it looked as if it was not there to begin with. The master artist sitting three benches away, slowly painting the next one of her creations. 

“Nani,” Ashima bent her head to her grandmother before hurriedly reaching for the bag of buns. “I have to work tonight, but I brought some buns for you and Ruhi. Ruhi and Rohan will come collect you at sunset, and I’ll be back in the morning ok?” 

Nani smiled and patted her cheek absentmindedly, rubbing a streak of green paint over the arch of cheek. 

“Could you tell Ruhi I won’t be home tonight? There’s some cheese on the shelf and I got some eggs and bitter greens” The emphasis in her voice finally got Nani’s attention. Nani’s wrinkled hand collapsed the bag of rolls and focused her eyes on her granddaughter’s, while nodding. She patted her cheek three times before grabbing a jug of hot tea while miming drinking. Shoving the tea at Ashima, Nani gave her a pointed look before going back to her painting. Nani may have lost her ability to speak one year ago but she could still get her point across with a single look. Chuckling, Ashima shouldered her way back through the crowds to her flat breads. 

\----

Eight sets of rolls was a feat for three days of work. Making all of the perfect fluffy Dydro rolls in one night could be considered torture to any but Mistress Sunita. Returning back home, Ashima could feel the grit of flour in her shoes and the stickiness of her sweat dripping down her neck. And Mistress Sunita only had sniffed and said “acceptable” before sending her home for the opening shift the next day with a demand to smell better. 

Trudging through the empty market stalls in the morning, Ashima could think of two things, a cold bath and two hours of sleep before getting Nani to the market before the noon rush. Ducking through the entranceway of her Nani’s home, Ashima grabbed the first food she could find. Grimacing at the acrid taste of her overripe plum, she turned to greet Ruhi. Her smile quickly fell though. 

As a midwife, Ruhi kept her calm. Women through the desert asked for her because even during emergencies, her voice never rose above a soft whisper. Seeing Ruhi with a look of shock on her face was equivalent to seeing a sandstorm during the rainy season. Her tan knuckles tightened over the cream paper that was too expensive for their family. Moving closer to Ruhi, Ashima hooked her crooked chin on her sister’s shoulder to read the words. 

“Ashima, Let’s play a game”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Greenery was still a surprise. Growing up in a desert made every instance of greenery a surprise. Unlike the dark wilted greens sold in the market, the vivid shades here ranged from a pale mint color to the deepest of emeralds. It was like waking up in an oasis.

It would have been like waking up in an oasis, if there wasn’t the ever present crying occurring in the background. Since she had arrived at the forest, she had seen countless people break down and cry, pleading for freedom. The tall guards disgustedly shoved each of these beggars back into the faerie circle, murmuring of disgraceful humans. The intertwining vines dotted with bright flowers encircling the contestants became thicker with each contestant’s attempt to leave. By day five, Ashima had given up on the idea she could leave the ring and go home. All she could do now was grip the hand of Niya, the young fifteen year old who had come with her Dydro. Niya was hardly out of her primary education and had just gotten engaged to the manager of her father’s tailor shop. Now, she was here shaking like a leaf. They hadn’t been close in the desert, the class differences between shop owners and apprentice bakers too great. Yet now, they were each other’s only lifeline for home. 

Batting at the small blue pixies always fluttered around her ears Ashima felt a chill on the back of her head. The sensation continued down her spine until she could feel a spark of energy traveling through her vertebrae. Her muscles tightened. Something was coming.

The sparks that were shooting through Ashima’s spine materialized in the air. Tiny flashes of light and energy pulsed throughout the circle and collided and ricocheted off of each other and the contestants, creating a vibrating noise that eclipsed the sounds of the forest. Huddling closer to Niya, Ashima squeezed her eyes shut in frightened anticipation. 

“Welcome to our home!”

The night court had arrived.

Standing at the center of the faerie ring were three tall smiling females. With features that were as delicate as if they had been crafted from a stoneworkers hands and clothing that could barely be distinguished from the surrounding lushness that enveloped them, they were striking. It wasn’t just beauty though that caused Ashima to stare at them, it was the sharp tinge in the shining eyes that seemed as if it was pretending to be mirth. It was the almost cruel upturn of their mouths. These were not kind people.

“We are thrilled to have you with us; it has been so long since we played our last game, and we’ve been so lonely.” The youngest looking fae dragged the last two words out as if they were sap dripping down from her too sharp teeth. Goosebumps erupted over Ashima’s neck.

“We have so many fun things planned for you all! This is going to be like a party that never ends,” the end of her sentence was met with tinkling laughter from her companions. Their pretty smiles went from upturned to smirks for a brief seconds before reverting back to their angelic disposition. All of the humans huddled closer. No one had fun at a faerie party, unless they were a fae. 

“Oh, but we haven’t even told you what we’re playing yet! How could we?” The tiny woman on her left who was covered in a light lavender fabric and hyacinth flowers. Her voice echoed off of the trees. “When we play a game, it’s because we have something important to add to our group! We’re ready for the newest member of our group!”

Everyone looked at her in shock. Faeries didn’t accept newcomers. They trapped them, kept them in their circles for ages, with no hope of being free. However, they were not equals; they were playthings. Endlessly dancing puppets who could never stop smiling, even as their feet bled. Trapeze artists who swung from rafters until they exhaustedly tumbled off. Anyone who joined the fae court was doomed to be a trinket for them to be used and abused.

“Looking at all of your faces, I can see you do not believe me. We don’t mean any harm! Our lovely brother is looking for his jaan. And it’s so hard to find a good addition to our family. All of the one’s in the past have failed Tanish’s challenges, and we would so love another sibling. This will be so much fun for all of us!” 

“What about all of the people you’ve taken who haven’t returned?” A loud shout came from the outskirts of the huddle. They all looked to see if we could identify the source, but the throngs of people masqued his identity. With the promise of anonymity, more voices could be heard joining the masses. 

“Why should we do anything for you?”

“We don’t want to play your stupid games!”

“Let us out!” Smaller groups of individuals ran towards the surrounding vines and guards. Shoving and pushing, they attempted to push the twirling shrubs and flowers to the sides. Some tried to climb the vines and others used brute strength to rip out the various flowers and cut through the vines. Slowly, it looked like they were able to see the outlines of the tall, rigid oaks that made up the center of the forest. Ashima allowed herself to feel an iota of hope that she could leave to see Ruhi and Nani again. She slowly started to make her way towards the edge of the circle, pulling Niya along with her. Step by step, she could feel the chill of the surrounding forest and the dewy breeze that stuck to her skin. It was possible; she could go home.

The vines retreated, and they all could see the twisted and dilapidated tree trunks. Swinging from the branches were bodies. Men dressed in fantastical suits vivid with colors and hues that could only be seen in the busiest of bazaars. They were hanging from one arm as the other proceeded to present a bouquet of flowers to a woman who was hanging by the sash cinching their waist in. Their smiles were wide, but their eyes were fixed and dazed. Looking at them made Ashima think she was looking at a puppet show. For while they seemed to be moving, but it was the only wind pushing and pulling them. 

“You could join them if you wish,” A slightly mocking tone cut through the card. Turning around, Ashima noticed the newest addition to the center of the circle. Whereas it was previously three females, there now was a throne made of winding branches and dark ivy. It laid empty. The aforementioned females surrounded the throne with several other people joining them. The youngest faery was wrapped around an even smaller woman, hugging her close. Lavender lady was clutching the arm of a brawny man while tracing her long fingers up and down the back of the chair. The rest of the faeries were surrounded by the court and their companions. 

While she could not recognize any of the fae’s companions, Ashima noticed that the vacant gaze that was present on so many of their victim’s faces was absent. While some of them were relaxed, like Lavender lady’s sturdy partner, others looked horrified by the physical contact. One older man, who still looked as if he was barely past the middle years grimaced as a faery played with the hair at the nape of his neck. The smaller girl that was being held against the young faery grimaced, and tugged at her bindings. Though they seemed to have the mental abilities to determine where they were, these companions looked no more happy than their frozen marionette companions. Replacing the vacant stares were grimaces or cool smirks. Eyes filled with hate, fear or indifference. . 

As she was spending so much time analyzing the companions, Ashima didn’t notice the throne was occupied until she heard Niya’s gasp. Squeezing Niya’s hand, Ashima turned to look.

Like his female counterparts, this faery was lean. Whereas their features appeared delicate, the sharp lines that cut his face made him look like a bobcat. His golden brown eyes narrowed as they scanned each of our faces as if hoping to see a sign of what we were worth before he deigned to talk to us. In contrast with the tension in his eyes, his body was relaxed, slumped in his throne as he hadn’t a care in the world. When she felt the weight of his gaze pass over her, Ashima pulled Niya closer and stared at the ground.

However, she couldn’t help but look up when his eyes left her. As she analyzed him, she noticed that while his posture was relaxed, each individual muscle was slightly tensed, as if he was ready to spring up. The practice nonchalance he was showing was a facade just like the retreating vines and the sight of the oak trees. It was just another way to get them to relax when they were dealing with a burning coal oven. 

“Well, are these our guests?” That same mocking tone exited a smiling bow-shaped mouth. Dragging his gaze across the crowds, he stood and did a sarcastic bow. 

“Welcome to the Night Court; we are thrilled to have you join us! My name is Tanish, and I will be participating in the games with you.” His smile widened showing off pointy white canines. 

“I can’t wait to begin.”

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, I'm really excited to continue this! I feel as if it can understand my characters more and I'm excited what you think of the plot! Please lmk or come talk to me on tumblr at https://neetfreak10.tumblr.com

Welcome to the Night Court, we are so eager to bring you into our lovely home that we wanted to invite you to participate in your first ball tonight. This is a simple game you see, and the rules will be revealed to you in threes. For tonight, we simply ask you to remember your senses: do not trust what you cannot see, do not taste that which you can’t find, and do not talk when you have nothing to say. If you pass the first challenge, congrats and we’ll see you again. If not, we’ll see you too.

The weak sun that passed through the leaves of the Shintel forest meant Ashima was always cold. While Dydro summers could cause cheese to bubble from being outside, summer in the forest felt as though she could never truly get warm. The chill was ever present. When combined with the fear of being in the Night Court, her hair at the nape of her neck puckered at the scenery of the party.  
In all honesty, it was a beautiful party. There were moving lights that lit up all of the trees. When Ashima looked closer, she could make out the vague outline of pixies dancing to the fiddle the fae played. Little flower cups filled with water and honeyed mead were delicately placed along the intricately created vine tables. The backdrop of the bright party lights against the rapidly darkening forest almost made her feel as if she was back in the night bazaar with its sparkling lanterns.  
While the scenery was stunning, the only ones who seemed to be enjoying it were the fae. The dancing line was only filled with them. A quick glance revealed that neither Tanish or any of his other companions were present. The only person Ashima recognized was the young girl who had resisted her captor’s hold earlier. Without her faery companion, she looked even younger. Her cheeks were still round, as if she had yet to grow into her adult body, and she moved like a puppy who was not used to his growing form. However, her eyes were tired in a way that looked far too mature for her age, and she kept her head down as if she couldn’t bear to look up.  
Ashima recognized the look of defeat. It was identical to the one’s every single human at the party wore now. While some of them were mildly intrigued by the beautiful fae, the vast majority was pouring over their instructions for the evening, trying to identify what Tanish could be talking about. Niya and Ashima had spent the majority of the afternoon trying to make any sense of the note. After hours analyzing each and every word for a clue, they were no closer to identifying what the faery’s goal was. The only thing they could agree on was the necessity of being unnoticed at the party tonight. It was a rumor that the fae were only attracted to extremes: rare beauties, those with exceptional knowledge or feats of valor. While unsupported, according to Ashima’s Mistress, the last boy taken from Dydro could carry more than the horses that carried supplies to the bazaar. Niya’s father had agreed and told a story of a wealthy seamstress who could embroider sceneries more vivid than real life that was kidnapped years ago.  
In some ways, Ashima had been grateful for these stories. As her only skill had been baking, in which she was slightly above mediocre at best, she knew that would make her chances at being taken lower. However, fae didn’t care for rules, and they were unlikely to begin her year. What could be the rules one year could be forbidden during the next games. So, she and Niya had taken extra work to appear unexciting. Niya had borrowed one of Ashima’s work dresses and had placed her thick shiny hair into a tight bun that made her young face look older and more severe than it was. Ashima chose to wear another work dress that had scorch marks on the sleeves. Her hair was tied back in a frizzy mass of curls that reacted to the water in the air.  
“Do not trust what you cannot see, do not taste that which you can’t find, and do not talk when you have nothing to say.”  
She didn’t get it. How could she not taste what she couldn’t find? The only food she could see was the water cups, and the only ones who were drinking from those were the fae themselves. Moreover, she trusted no one at this party, and as such didn't want to talk to any of the fae present. There were only ten of them, and she could already feel her skin prickling from the magic that was overflowing the area. The tingling increased throughout the next series of dances. Various faeries had come up to her and Niya, trying to cajole them into joining their dance. While both girls initially refused, Niya had been swept away by a young human companion who had soft eyes and a crooked grin. He had whispered into Niya’s ear, her tan neck slowly flushing before she gestured to Ashima she was going to go dance.  
But the prickling sensation heightened. Soon, it felt as if an entire colony of ants was marching through her skin, eating away at her clothes and weaving through the hairs on her scalp. Rolling her shoulders, she dragged her dull fingernails across her arms, trying to alleviate the tingling. However, it only seemed to make it worse. As the night continued, Ashima had adjusted her body various tims, trying to cool the little fires that seemed to have erupted all over her body. The pain only grew though, until she was forced to close her eyes, as lightning shot through her skin, raising each hair on it’s edge.  
The Night Court had arrived.  
Dressed in silks that looked softer than the flowers of a desert rose, the fae stood out among the rest of the participants. The common fae that had been leading the dances all were in deep bows and curtsies. While the court appeared indifferent to their subjects, the humans, both the participants and the companions, were staring at them with a mix of fear and awe. Ashima could not stare at them without her skin feeling as if it was on fire, and she moved behind some of the larger participants to hide herself from their view. 

“Welcome!” The tiny fae girl from the introduction ceremony called out. Peeking her eyes around the participants, Ashima saw the tiny faery dressed in deep violet standing in the middle of the circle. “We are so so excited to have our future sibling with us right now! The last person we welcomed to the court was my lovely Marigold and I know she wants a friend!”  
The violet fae pulled Marigold into her arms and sent her a sharp-toothed grin. 

“Let’s do some introductions. My name is Violetta and I will be the one who throws the events for everyone. And this is my lovely Marigold,” she stopped herself from her speech to kiss her victim’s face before returning to her description of the court. Ashima saw Marigold’s forehead tightened before it returned to its emotionless state.

“This is my sister, Amaryllis and her companion Rodrigo. And the man of the hour, Tanish,” swinging her hands towards Tanish, 

“And our future sibling is here as well! I know how lonely my brother has been without his companion and he is so excited that his jaan could be here. Aren’t you excited, Tanish?” 

Tanish’s eyes glistened as a crooked smirk crossed his face. Taking one step forward, he placed himself in the middle of the circle. While he leisurely stood, his eyes glanced at the huddled groups of humans before widening. 

“I don’t think I could be excited, Violetta. While I hoped to see my jaan here, I cannot see anyone when our lovely guests are so clustered together. I was hoping that a party would loosen them up, but it seems I was wrong.”

The cool mocking tone and the sneering jeer he wore on his face made Ashima push herself closer to the edge of the circle, praying her dark skin would allow her to blend into the background of darkening trees. When his eyes glanced at her patch of the woods, she looked down. 

“I think we should all be introduced! Why don’t we stand in the traditional fae circle and hold a toast? We are celebrating our guests so we should have a toast should we not?”  
Tanish’s words caused their feet to move. People shoved their way to their edges of the clearing, crowding Ashima closer and closer to the tree’s barks. Glancing around for Niya, she finally found her frightened face eight people over. Ashima summoned any strength that she had and started to go against the crowds towards Niya. She felt some eyes on her before they moved past. Squeezing Niya’s hand, she settled against the bark of trees before she allowed herself to observe her surroundings. Blue pixies distributed silver cups containing a deep plum wine and forcing them into the clenched fists of the competitors. The fae were eagerly watching the human’s faces as they smelled the sweet wine that reminded Ashima of freshly picked figs and honey.

“A toast to our prince and his future jaan! To celebrate this occasion, we ask you to enjoy our court’s favorite drink: to new friends and companions!” Violetta’s stress on the word companions caused Ashima to look up. All of the faeries’ faces were too gleeful, their smiles too wide as they stared at the hesitant humans raising the cups to their mouths. She noticed the mischievous twinkle that lit up the Courts’ faces as they waited for everyone to position their cups closer to their faces. 

“Do not trust what you cannot see, do not taste that which you can’t find, and do not talk when you have nothing to say.” If you pass the first challenge, congratulations, we’ll see you again! If not, we’ll see you too.

The fae’s warning echoed through her head as she saw every human prepare to drink the poison in their cups. Some of them even look entranced from the fumes alone. As Tanish motioned for everyone to take a large swig of their drink, Ashima’s eyes widened in realization. Where had the wine come from?  
Dropping her glass and she watched as the fluid soaked into the dirt below it, staining the dirt below it, before remembering Niya next to her. She grabbed the cup out of her frozen hands and tossed the drink as far away from the two of them as possible.

“You can’t drink that, Niya. It’s poisoned!” 

Grabbing the young girl’s hand, Ashima pointed towards the now bubbling liquid. Why would the fae start off the game by trying to kill them? Maybe they were sick of the game after all of these centuries? Perhaps, only the man’s jaan would survive, but if that was the case couldn’t they have made everyone in the kingdom drink the wine?

It was the soft clap and mocking laugh that pulled Ashima out of her head and back to her surroundings. The adrenaline had been clouding her senses and when she finally looked at the rest of the circle, she saw all of the humans staring at her. Some were trying to make themselves vomit, while others looked at their own glasses with an air of distrust. However, none of the humans were laughing. No, that came from the center of the ring. 

“Well, well, well, we might have a winner of the game this year after all,” Tanish’s eyes burrowed into her. The smirk that had graced his face in all of their previous encounters were gone as a wide smile began spreading across his face.  
It was the most horrifying thing she had ever seen.  
~~~~  
Standing inside the stone walls of the castle, Ashima kept her eyes as far away from the fae prince as she could. His eyes had scarcely left her since they moved all the participants who passed the challenge to the castle for a debrief. Pushing her back further against the wall, she focused her eyes on the hemline of Niya’s dress. The flames from the oven as well as her lack of coordination caused the hem to be irregular and jagged from the scorch marks. That was her future, not this.

“Well,” Amaryllis unsuredly paused, nibbling the inside of her cheek before she decided on what she wanted to say. “We typically don’t have such a large turnout for the second round, but we’re delighted to have all of you. You’ll be glad to know you all passed and have qualified to play the rest of the game!”

Her enthusiasm was not met by the participants. Ashima peeked out from under her lashes to see what her companions thought. When she noticed that the majority continued staring at the ground, she moved to join them, when a pair of dark brown eyes caught her’s.

“What happened to the people who drank the wine?”

Everyone, human and fae, turned to look at him. His soft voice matched his face. While Ashima could see the fear in his eyes, he still was calm underneath the scrutinizing gazes of the fae court. His voice was mild like a light breeze and he spared a glance at her long enough for her to see the steely look of determination that underscored the composure in his face.

“Well, they failed their first challenge, so we will keep them as...guests for a couple of parties. Don’t worry there will be plenty of entertainment for them to participate in.” Violetta giggled as she stressed the word “participate,”as if it was any way voluntary. Shame filled Ashima’s gut as she realized that she could have saved them all if she had just figured out the clue a little earlier. 

“Their only crime is taking a sip of wine. Surely, the Night Court is not duplicitous enough to allow for a single mistake to condemn an entire group of people to a life of eternal,” a grimace crossed the stranger’s placid face as he choked out, “pleasure.”

“It doesn’t matter what you think. Those that eat or drink in the land of the fae cannot leave it without our permission. They were weak and submitted themselves to the whims of their desires. It’s best you forget them.” Tanish’s harsh voice scalded her. Hunching backwards, she dug her cracked nails against the smooth stones she leant against. Her only reprieve was that Tanish no longer deigned to stare at her instead focusing his attention on the dark-skinned boy.

“And we have so many more fun games to play! In honor of the hope of true companionship we want for our brother, we thought we could all enjoy some reenactments of our kingdom’s favorite stories. In each game, you will get a series of new roles to play and temptations to resist.”

“What’s the point of the game? What do you want?” 

The anonymous asker spoke what had been on Ashima’s mind. What was a jaan for a fae? In Dydro, a jaan meant a partnership or a companion like Ruhi and Rohan. When Ruhi was upset about a difficult delivery, she could confide in Rohan, and when Rohan had a great day at the market, he could share his joy with Ruhi. Their frustration at their arguments were met with quiet conversations and active changes. At the end of the day, Ruhi and Rohan were equals.  
One look at Tanish and Ashima knew his jaan would not be an equal. From observing the other fae’s companions, the only thing she could see was a dark control that underscored each of their relationships. Marigold unwillingly spent her time either glaring at the edges of the ring or dispassionately staring at her feet when Violetta was with her. She had yet to see Amaryllis without one of her hands on Rodrigo. There was no trust in their relationships, just ownership. From his constant staring, Tanish seemed to think that Ashima could possibly be the next new exciting trinket to grace the Night Court. 

“My jaan will be a member of the Night Court and be my companion. As the eldest son, it will soon be time for me to ascend to the throne of the court. However, in order to reach my full power I need the rooting effect of my jaan.” Tanish’s bored tone would have been appropriate if he was talking about the weather, and not his life partner. 

“What does your jaan get? A life of servitude and entrapment?” The same boy who had been bold enough to speak earlier shouted again while sending a sideways glance at her. Ducking her head, Ashima realized that she wanted to know the answer more than she cared to admit. If being a companion to a lower ranked fae looked like an endless internal struggle between complacency and self-hatred, being with Tanish would be like living in a cage. 

While the faery prince’s face darkened and the lines around his eyes tightened, he did not stop smiling. 

“My jaan,” he stressed the word ‘my’ heavily while staring heavily at the boy, “will be my companion. They will want for nothing. You cannot understand my feelings for them, as you don’t have the capacity to know how much I care for them.”

The last words were sharp and biting as if he was forcing it through his mouth. His golden eyes were sharp as he stared down at the boy.

“Why don’t we get to the games? We wouldn’t want to spoil all of the fun,” Violetta’s fast words were almost squeaky as she sent concerned looks at Tanish.

“Our games have one purpose to highlight what is special about Tanish’s future jaan. In order to do this we will have to put you through four stories commonly told in the kingdom. Your goal is to ensure that you stand out as much as possible, as our good brother wants an extraordinary jaan,” she stopped to giggle, “and in order to do that, you need to be able to reject the temptation just as you would if you were the future consort. Because of this, your goal is to make it through each of these challenges without falling for someone of the jokes and little traps we have placed” 

Tanish’s bored voice interrupted her, “Also, as some of you fail to see this as the wonderful opportunity this is, losing does not mean you can go home; it just means that you’ll be reunited with your compatriots at the original party until we have a winner.”

“Thank you Tanish,” Violetta’s rushed to cut her brother off, “and at the end of the competition, those that were able to solve the riddle and discover what trait Tanish wants in his future consort, will be chosen to become the next co-ruler. Those of you who are unchosen or who have not succumbed to three temptations will be able to return to your lives.”  
Chatter broke out through the room at the chance to return home. Ashima’s heart jumped at the chance to see Ruhi and Nani again. 

“So what role will you play in the next story, you ask? Well I believe in rewarding those who can think for themselves. Ashima, why don’t you come forth?”

Not reacting to her name, Ashima continued to picture being home, going to the bakery, making flat bread, when Niya tugged on their conjoined hands Awakened, Ashima felt as though an egg had been cracked on the crown of her head and the remains were dripping down her spine as she recognized the weight behind Tanish’s words.  
. Slowly putting her foot forward, Ashima paused with one foot outstretched. Debating if she could make it to the center of the room with her head held high, she knew she could not. She wouldn’t stare at the mockery in Tanish’s eyes as she approached him. Ducking her head, she turned her shoulders to fit in between the hordes of participants Deliberately, she took the longest way she could, stepping into groups, hiding behind the taller people in the group until she finally could see the shiny slippers that adorned Tanish’s feet. Her head stayed down. 

“What a smart girl you are, Ashima?” His sinewy fingers worked their way up her burnt orange sleeves to catch one of the errant curls that refused to stay tied. His insistent tugging at the tendril forced Ashima to look up into his eyes. A smirk crossed his face, showing the too sharp pearly teeth before he allowed himself to speak. 

“You deserve a reward don’t you? After all, you saved so many of your friends to participate in the next game,” Shuddering at his words, Ashima cursed herself for thinking she had outwitted the fae. They had planned this. Seeing her slightly open mouth and doubt in her brow, Tanish smiled. 

“Well the only way I can think to reward you is to make you the star for the next game. This one is simple though, it’s a simple story, I’m sure you’ve heard of it: Little Red Riding Hood and the Wolf?” 

Her shoulders stiffened, eyes widening in fear as she recognized that she wouldn’t be able to hide for the first game. Feeling a pressure on her chest, She unconsciously pressed her hand to her chest to ensure she was breathing. The thoughts in her head were racing and she almost didn’t hear his whisper to her.

“Don’t worry love,” his teeth nipped at the top of her ear, “I’ll be sure to show you how sharp my teeth are soon.”


	3. Chapter 3

Breathe...step...breathe

A red cloak swirled around Ashima, as she turned and looked where she had been sent to. Where she had previously been in a room surrounded by hundreds of participants, she was now isolated in the wood. There was only a single stone-laden path that she had only heard about in the fairy tales Nani used to tell. At her feet, there was a weaved basket holding a small slip of paper, a wrapped package and a flask. 

Pulling at the shred, Ashima tried to calm her racing heart. 

_ Take a step down the path, little red _ . _ Your only goal is to make it to Grandmother’s home before the big bad wolf. Straying from the path may help or hurt, but the most precious person to you lies at the end. Here are your hints. _

  * _There is a divide in the road, be careful in which you choose. One will make your journey two times longer but less treacherous. One will cut the time in half but add perilous encounters with other participants whose job is to dissuade you. And the last leads to a sweet surprise. Just remember first impressions are never what they seem but neither are second’s._


  * Some of the interactions you have are meant to help you. Others will seek to harm you. As a general rule, trust those who show their intentions 


  * Make sure grandmother receives all of the basket’s contents.



Scrunching her eyes, Ashima did nothing to stop the curse that fell out of her mouth. The fae made everything too complicated. All reading the note gave her a splitting headache as she tried to figure out their ridiculous clues. Now, she wished that she had decided to continue on with school. While Dydro’s schools could hardly help her with the wordplay the fae loved, she might be able to logic more than she could now. 

Coming to three-way fork in the road, Ashima stared at the three choices. None of the paths looked any different from the other. All of them were surrounded by seemingly endless trees, and all of them looked as if they could take forever. 

The roads were different in texture. One was paved in cobblestones, while the other was rocky and full of grass. Glancing at the last option, she could only see the start of the road before it disappeared into the forest. A trickling creek wound its way under each of the roads before looping back through the forest. Thinking over the note, she tried to see past the first impressions of the different paths. If she based it just off of the characteristic of the roads, she would have taken the cobblestone path, but that seemed like a perilous journey just waiting to happen. However, if her second impression was good then didn’t that mean it would be a good idea to walk there? She already had a headache and the game had just begun.

“Do you want a little help?” A jilting mocking voice called out. 

Meeting the prince’s eyes was always jarring. No matter how many times she saw his face, she was struck by the otherworldly beauty. Each of his features looked as if they were carved by one of the expert artisans in Dydro. If he had been a sculpture, he would have been beautiful; however, as a man, he was terrifying. 

“I’m okay”. She said while turning to face the roads again. This was not a hard choice. It was one out of three. Just pick one, cobblestones, gravel or hidden. Either would lead her to where she wanted to go if she had read the note well, and the only perilous thing she could think of was spending more time with Tanish than she wanted to. 

“Are you sure, love? I could give you a hint.” His tone of voice was polite, but there was an underlying pressure in his words. Even his endearments sounded like a threat. He had moved closer, while her back was turned, and she could feel the moisture from his words condensing on her neck. 

When she had wanted to avoid people in Dydro, she had retreated to the bakery and the ovens. For now, she could go to the forest. Making her decision, she chose to go for the hidden path as she had no impression of it at all. 

“You truly choose to struggle don’t you? I could just tell you how to get there and you could be on your merry way. Sounds like it would be a golden plan for anyone. Then you could win and go back home, couldn’t you?” Walking away from a fae was not how you avoided them apparently. Tanish kept up with Ashim’s hurried pace easily. Hands stuck in his pockets, strolling through the forest as if they were friends.

“So, I understand why that skinny little twig that hangs off of you wants you to go home. She has a nice life, a good family, a handsome fiance. When she goes back to the desert wasteland, she’ll have a comfortable existence. What will you have?” His easy-going nature seemed to fade as he continued to talk. The light teasing that had dominated his speeches beforehand had an underbelly of genuine interest, which she wanted to squash. 

“I miss home.” She didn’t want to give him anymore of her than he already had. He already had her present and possibly her future in his hands; he didn’t get to have her past either. 

“What part of it,’ he chuckled, “the constant dryness, the constant smell of animals and people who are too dirty to clean themselves, the home of pick-pockets and looters? What part of that is relaxing to you, Ashima: the poverty, the struggle to succeed in that hell-hole or the dirt?”

Ashima had paused when he had first started talking. While his description of Dydro was callous, it was not false. Dydro was a formerly grand city at the edge of a desert. Once known as the mineral capital of the empire, Dydro’s fortunes had dried up with the loss of its mines. People were forced out of the mines, and left with nowhere to go, other than the market, and the pickpockets and thieves followed in eager fashion.

“I grew up there. I am comfortable there.” Ashima tried to explain, but he wouldn’t understand. Home didn’t mean Dydro. It meant Nani and cups of cha in the morning. It meant stretching out in the sun and drawing out puzzles in the sand with Ruhi. It meant traveling to the bazaar and feeling lost in the sense of being anonymous.

“Really? I don’t know. Part of me couldn’t stomach the idea of being a burden on my elderly neighbor and her granddaughter.”

Maybe it was the casual way he said or maybe it was the words itself but Ashima stopped in her tracks. There was no way he could know that. Other than her, only Nani and Ruhi knew she wasn’t related to them. 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Tanish turned when he heard her tone. Even she was surprised. This was the first time she had shown any emotion towards him other than fear. While her voice was still soft, her words resonated with anger.

“What don’t I know, Ashima? Being abandoned by my family?” as he spoke, he started to slowly pace toward her. His steps were languid as if he was moving through sap and she fought her urge to step back. 

“I guess I don’t know what it’s like to be baggage for strangers to be taken in. Fae aren’t like humans, our families mean everything to us,” he punctuated his point by dragging hand down her arm, sending a series of chills in its wake. She moved to get away, bracing her hand against his shoulder and shoving against the wall of immovable muscle. . 

“It just surprises me, why you, a girl who has nothing, no family, no future, and no hope would be desperate to go back to...”

With a thud, Tanish’s back hit a scraggly tree trunk. His eyes widened as he took in Ashima’s enraged eyes and prominent scowl. Her shoulders were pulled back tautly and her fingers were twitching erratically. Walking towards him, she got close enough so she could clearly see the emotions passing through his eyes. Seeing only curiosity, she scoffed internally for thinking the faery prince of all people would show anything like remorse. Picking up the basket that had been discarded during their interaction, she pushed her way through the trees.

\----

He hadn’t expected that from his little dormouse. He had seen willow saplings with backbone than Ashima. During the wine ceremony, she hadn’t looked up from her feet once. And when he had spoken to her earlier, he was amused to see the genuine fear that laced through her every gesture. 

In all honesty, he began pursuing her because of her reactions. The other humans didn’t appear to have more than two brain cells between the two of them. Their actions were led by their anger or fear. While Ashima was clearly scared of everything in his realm, she wasn’t reckless. Even when he heckled her, she still stopped to think. Comparatively, she was smarter than all of them. Yet, she was not smart enough to escape from him. He laughed remembering her trying to avoid his interest in the ballroom. As if she could make herself as uninteresting as the crowd that surrounded her. And her recent act of aggression just made her more enticing.

“Brother,” he turned to acknowledge Violetta while keeping his eyes fixed on the path Ashima had taken, “you need to be doing your part in the games. You cannot just focus on one contestant.”

He nodded distractedly while trying to remember the roads that approached the cottage home. If he could surprise Ashima again, he could effectively prevent her from reaching the goal, forcing her to stay with him until he could figure out why out of the hundreds of contestants over the years, he was drawn to a shy little dormouse. Compared to the fae women of the kingdom, she wasn’t particularly beautiful. Her uneven complexion and wild hair would prevent her from being a great beauty even among human standards. 

Her only saving grace was her compassion. While the little girl she associated with was clearly out of her social strata, Ashima went out of her way to protect her. Keeping her from drinking the wine, hiding her in those hideous clothes, and reaching out to provide an ounce of comfort. She would have been better off if she had ignored the child because it drew his attention to her. 

As a species, fae were not compassionate creatures. They were drawn to tricks and mischief. For every word a fae told, there could be thousands meanings. The ulterior motives of every action had to be taken into account when making a decision. His father, who couldn’t spend an hour without his mother, never cracked a smile in court. There wasn’t any room for emotions, making Ashima even more rare. 

And for Tanish, her genuineness was addicting. When he had seen Ashima reach out for her friend, he craved to feel the sympathetic grip of her fingers against his own. Her commiserating looks with the mouthy upstarter in the ballroom made a pit of jealousy bubble in his stomach and her affection for her family was evident in how she defended her place in their family. He wanted someone to look at him with that passion, and when she turned to glare at him, he felt lust cloud his mind.

“I understand, Violetta. And you’re right, what sort of predator would I be if I only chased after one prey?” With a smirk towards his sister, he moved to start the game again. Setting off after Ashima, he sought out the heady pleasure of her and her emotions. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to help develop why Tanish was interested in Ashima. I also wanted to start building their relationship more. Please let me know what you think!

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at original work. I'm very excited to try it and hope it'll be ok! Please let me know if you like it or not. Come chat with me on tumblr at https://www.tumblr.com/blog/neetfreak10


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